


everyone and their dog want a piece of John Watson

by simplyclockwork



Series: Tumblr Inspired/Prompted Sherlock Fics - Part One [39]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23271565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork
Summary: Prompted by @a-study-in-johnlock on tumblr:2. “Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”4. “OH you’re jealous!”
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Tumblr Inspired/Prompted Sherlock Fics - Part One [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528859
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116





	everyone and their dog want a piece of John Watson

**Author's Note:**

> Don't judge me for that title. I'm all titled-out from these prompt fills.

It always happened. Without fail, anytime Sherlock and John went anywhere, someone hit on John. Men, women, literally everyone. The checkout worker, the bus driver, the waiter, the damn security guard at Bart’s. 

Sherlock was sick of it. John was always so polite. Answered the flirting with a smile or a wink. Sometimes a coy little glance from under his pale lashes. Sherlock hated it. He kept his mouth shut, biting his tongue, until one day, he couldn’t stay quiet anymore. 

They were out for lunch, Sherlock watching John devour a plate of fries after they had spent most of the day chasing down leads for a case. He was hungry, and Sherlock always enjoyed making sure John ate. He was much happier on a full stomach. These were things Sherlock knew—knew them like he knew his own habits. They were a unit. Partners. Just the two of them, against the world. 

His sentimental thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of their waitress, a petite woman with big green eyes. She flashed John a smile, made some inane comment about the weather. Her fingers brushed John’s shoulder when she reached out to refill his coffee, and John laughed at some stupid joke she made with far too much enthusiasm. Sherlock’s blood boiled. 

“Excuse me,” he said, flashing the waitress a sharp, fake smile. “Any chance we could get our bill? Thanks.” He made sure to lay on the false charm heavily, letting his sardonic, boiling anger bleed through. The waitress shot him a cautious smile, uneasy, her eyes flickering to John before she scurried away.

“That was rather rude.” John was frowning at him, and Sherlock avoided his gaze, pretending to scrape some non-existent dirt from beneath a fingernail.

“Was it?” he said, voice cool. “Dear me. Well, can’t be helped, I suppose.”

John fixed him with a hard look, and Sherlock cleared his throat, trying to hide his embarrassment at John’s sharp scrutiny. But John didn’t look away, and Sherlock felt his face begin to grow warm. 

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” John asked, and Sherlock bit hard into his lip, shaking his head. 

“Blushing? Am I? Hmm, must be warm in here.” He mimed fanning himself with one hand, reaching out to grab the bill from the waitress when she appeared. _“Thanks,_ ” he hissed, and her eyes shifted quickly away from his face to John’s.

“So,” she began, ignoring Sherlock’s deadly stare. Her hands fluttered nervously at her waist, and she aimed a small, timid smile at John. “Any plans for the evening?” 

Sherlock’s hand shook when he tossed a handful of notes at her, his voice scathing as he rose, grabbing John’s arm. “Sorry, he’s very busy tonight. No time for you, I’m afraid. Come along, John.”

He tugged John after him, lip curling back at the waitress’s stricken expression. Once they were outside, John dug his heels in, pulling Sherlock to a stop.

“What was that!” he demanded, a scowl on his face. “Sherlock, that was—that was _so rude!_ What’s gotten into you?”

Sherlock sniffed, looking away. “Nothing, John.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” He felt John’s eyes on his face, studying. Narrowing and widening. A little bark of surprised laughter slipped from John’s mouth as realization came over his face.

“OH!” he exclaimed. “You’re jealous!”

Sherlock’s head whipped around, his chin jutting out. “I am _not.”_

Grinning, John sidled up to him, backing Sherlock toward the wall outside the restaurant. “Is that so?” His brows rose, a sly look darkening his eyes. Sherlock looked down at him nervously, and John continued, “so you won’t mind if I go back in there and chat that waitress up, then?” 

Silence followed the challenge, Sherlock pressing his lips tight together. John’s brows rose even higher.

“All right then,” he said, twisting to turn back toward the door. “I’ll just be on my way—”

Reaching out, Sherlock snagged his arm, reeling him back in. John allowed the action, coming back to Sherlock with a wide grin. “That’s what I thought.” John’s face was entirely too smug, and Sherlock glared down at him.

“John Watson,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

John’s grin widened. “What if I was?”

Sherlock smirked, ducking his head so John’s lips brushed his. “Then I’d say you need to be taught some manners.”

John’s breath hitched in his throat, and he lowered his voice, replying, “guess we better head back home, hmm?”

“Oh, I agree,” Sherlock replied, and John’s face warmed with a wide smile. 

“Good.” 


End file.
